


Frantic and Untimely

by Fiercest



Series: Steady as the Beating Drum [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Doctor/Companion Friendship, Gen, Goodbyes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 15:43:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3331037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fiercest/pseuds/Fiercest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prequel to 'Steady as the Beating Drum'. </p><p>One last adventure; their hour is at its' end. "I wouldn't normally ask. But this time- and only this time-"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frantic and Untimely

**Author's Note:**

> I have grown to love Clara so much, unfortunately I know her goodbye is coming :(

_"This is it Doctor. One last adventure. You and me."_

_But why?_

* * *

 

"Doctor… you know I wouldn't normally ask this."

"What is it Clara?" the Doctor demanded irritably, "I'm sort of busy for a chat."

"I-" she seemed to choke on her words, cutting herself off. Tears brimmed in the corners of her eyes, making them shine. She looked like a doll, staring unseeingly out in front of her. Her beautiful smile twisted into a grimace. "Whatever you do, I need you to save me first."

"What."

"This time—and only this time—I need you to make sure _I_ get home safe."

"Clara, I would never-"

"You'd never let anything happen to me. I know." Her smile returned from beyond the grave, but it was sad; marked from having been there. "Except sometimes you don't really have much choice in the matter, sometimes people die… or disappear…"

He'd told her all his stories when he'd been his old self. Back then he had been so chatty; desperately happy to find her, to have someone again, that he'd launched into tirades after every question. He answered her thoroughly and concisely (for him anyway). Too much trouble had come from withholding things from his companions—from his friends. He liked when she asked him about them. He could go on and on about the very best parts of him, those friends of his. He'd loved every one and in telling their stories, he liked to think that he made Clara loved them too. For what did Clara love more than a good story?

Well. Danny. And…

"I can't disappear Doctor, I've got someone who depends on me now," she sniffed, and that sad smile remained fixed. "A little boy."

"Is it-?" And the Doctor can't think of a single explanation that fits into this world.

"Danny's? Yeah."

"When?"

"When we left each other. It was quite a lot of time."

Humans, they looked different after... well, after. "And I never noticed?"

"There's not much you do notice, Doctor," Clara giggled.

"But you're-?"

"Here? Yeah," there was a certain shame in her demeanour before she shook it off. "You always drop me at the same time you take me now. Can't afford to miss a minute of him." Clara shrugged one shoulder, she couldn't really move much, she was holding the wires steady. "Could we talk about this morw when Cannibalistic Futurekind aren't banging down the door?"

"Clara," the Doctor's stare was sad, it foretold of endings.

"I know Doctor, come on now. Chin up. Let's get out of here."

Later, they sat beside each other on the jumpseat of the Tardis, staring straight ahead at the console. The seat seemed to have expanded during the stretch of silence. Where before their shoulders had brushed together, now they were sitting on opposite ends of a long chasm of separation. Apparently the Tardis felt their discomfort well.

"That man at the end of the universe. He'll still exist someday."

"Maybe."

"Will I ever see you again?"

Clara had had enough of personal space. She stood up and walked over to his side of the bench, sitting down in a determined and decided fashion. "'Course you will, you can always visit."

"Seems a little domestic."

"Christmas with the Pinks. Think you can handle one day?"

"I hate Christmas, something bloody terrible always happens."

"Now you know that's just not true," out of habit Clara leaned her head on his shoulder. And the Doctor did something he'd never done before; he kissed her hair, inhaled her scent and frowned. "Sometimes wonderful things happen."

"Like what?"

"Sometimes it snows."


End file.
